DeathBerry and the 99 Lifetimes
by Chibi Yachiru-chan
Summary: IchiRuki in all kinds of possible... or well, impossible... Alternate Universes.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.**

**A/N: I know I should be updating other fanfics. But after drowning endlessly in IchiRuki, I don't think I have an option! So yeah, guess I'm ready for the task. One down, 98 to go!**

**For me, here AU is gonna be anything except with them being Shinigami. There'd be clichés and there'd be character deaths and there'd be all kind of shit I can come up with. So, anyway, here's the first chapter…**

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Kingdoms and Honor

The Lord sits on his throne, his calculative gaze fixed, scrutinizing every minute detail the General presents. The war is raging. And there is little certainty about anything at all. The guard announces the long awaited arrival of the princess and the meeting is dismissed at once.

She enters. For a figure as puny and non-impressive as the raven-haired's, it should be physically impossible to command that strong a sense of presence. But the sheer metal of her being leaves little to dispute about the prospects of the clan.

"Nii-sama," she bows low and goes down on her knees. "The troops are ready to depart. This battle shall, in all probability, be decisive. I vow to lead us to victory and restore the honor of the Kuchiki clan. I have come to seek your blessings."

He stares at her for a moment, impassive and cold. But the glint in his eyes suggests pride. Suggests affection. Suggests guilt. Suggests angst.

"Return victorious," he says—his voice as cold and commanding as ever. "Or do not return at all. The honor of the clan is in your hands to protect."

She nods, determined to live up to the command till her last breath. And he watches her back in an almost awestruck admiration as she walks out, head held high.

The crown prince of the Shiba clan is nothing if not a ferocious warrior. And she sees the living legend she has so often heard of as their troops clash. Metal to metal, fire to fire. They roar into the battleground, staking their all. He leads with a fire that's unheard of. No… he himself is that fire—the epitome of inspiration—that charges the troops, and spreads wildly. And for all their technical and strategic advantage, she realizes a little too late, what they lack, is the means to contain that fire. He delivers the last blow, bringing her tumbling down from the horse to her knees. And the crushing defeat weighs heavy on her heart as they all surrender their weapons. The cool tip of his sword, inches from her neck, seems like a crude mockery in her face as she lets go of her own sword with reluctance. And sucks in a deep breath, preparing herself to meet her end right there and then. But she doesn't see it coming—when he sheathes his sword back in place and extends his hand.

"I'm Ichigo," he says, and she's enraptured by the sheer warmth his voice brings around her. Because, she reminds herself, he is fire. "Crown prince of the Shiba clan."

She doesn't look up, doesn't reply. For all the humiliation she's suffering as a warrior, she refuses to surrender the last bit of her pride.

"I see," he chuckles softly. And the light tone is such a crass contrast to the voices screaming inside her head that she wants to pull her hands over her ears and yell till her lungs explode.

"Well, princess," he says, and she knows he's probably shaking his head in disapproval… or maybe exasperation. "For now, you shall be coming back with me to the kingdom of the Shibas. The survivors of your army shall all be taken in as prisoners of war."

And what about her? She can't dare to ask. And the anguish inside of her grows as she jerks her head up to commit the last act of defiance before taking her own life and save a lifelong embarrassment to the Kuchiki clan.

And that is when the clock stops, and the world around them freezes. She stares at the warmth in the heath of his brown, brown eyes. He stares at the defiance in the ocean of her blue, blue eyes.

Then the time starts ticking off again. And the world returns to its state of perpetual motion.

… and the raging fire in his brown… has met the cold ice in her blue.

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**A/N: So each chapter is going to be short. I'll try to update in every 3-4 days. This story will be taken up in a later chapter, so yeah, it's a "to be continued" thing. (Come on, I gotta make it 99! Spare me!)**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach**

**A/N: yay the update! This one is kinda slow… not that great a chapter. The story in the last one will be taken up later. Because it's a loose collection. And because well, where's the fun without randomness!**

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Familiar Strangers

_There's no comfort greater than having one known face in a faceless crowd._

She simply hated the city. Everything about it. It was as if overnight, a hurricane had flung her off into some alien land and there was no road back. Because, honestly, it isn't every day that some rich corporate tycoon suddenly turns up at your doorstep and offers to adopt you.

It wasn't like she hadn't been happy going about her life even if it were hard enough to make ends meet. What had really set her off was the way her best friend had so easily let her go. So easily gloated about how she could finally live the life they couldn't have even dreamt of. So easily overlooked the emotions she had been struggling through.

And so she had cut herself loose. All bonds, everything.

She had nothing against her adoptive brother as such. In fact she respected him a lot. But the cold gentleman was nothing more than just another soul existing in the circle of her life. In the four months that had passed since, he hadn't even once looked at her.

School wasn't any better either. She had no outstanding talents, and wasn't faring any better in socializing. And to add to all of that, the tag that came attached with the status of being one of the four most affluent households in the country made it worse.

She hated the city, the school, the mansion that was now her home.

Her brother had very generously offered her a chauffeur and a car solely for her own use. But she would have none of that. If anything, it would only water down any attempts she made to mix in… rather to not stand out as an abomination. Walking down to the bus stop was just the one thing she actually looked forward to. The only remotely comfortable part of the day was when she stood there waiting for the bus. When she would casually gaze over on the other side of the road… and would always, always find him there—the tall guy with the peculiar bright orange spiky hair—reading, listening to music, drumming his fingers, or sometimes, just standing there, staring at her with a mix of amusement and relief on his face. Strangely familiar, oddly comforting. And she would just smile to herself before getting on the bus which took her in the other direction.

Some days, she'd find herself wondering where he lived…

He'd stand right there in his spot at the bus stop and watch her trudge down the side walk. A picture of gloom. But then she would just oh-so-casually gaze in his general direction and there would be a hint of relief evident on her face. Some days, he'd even see her smile to herself. There was something that suggested a sense of self-righteousness about her. The way she walked, the way she stood waiting, the way she averted her gaze if he happened to look back at her. Even when her face clearly suggested some deep, sad melancholic longing.

But then, she would look at him. And he'd know that just by standing there, he'd done enough to bring her out, if momentarily, of whatever that was eating away at her.

And then she'd get on the bus and he'd watch her walk down the aisle and take a seat, her tiny silhouette visible through the window till the bus turned a corner.

With a little shake of his head, he'd just sigh and close his book or whatever he'd been doing and walk back.

It was just another day. Just another stray thought about just another orange-haired guy. And she'd gotten onto just another bus when it so happened that curiosity got the better of her. She shifted just a little and from the corner of her eyes, looked out the window. She'd expected to see him get onto a bus. Or watch his tall silhouette fade as the bus sped ahead. But she didn't expect him to just snap his book shut, shake his head with a sheepish, half-suppressed smile and start walking down the road.

The familiar stranger was just… so strange…

So why was he so shaken when the next day, his eyes only zoomed in on empty space? There was no sign of the raven-haired midget on the bus stop across the road. Why did his eyes instinctively dart down to his watch while his brain calculated he was dot on time? What were those eyes searching for? Why did he feel as if somebody had taken out one part off his jenga game and the whole structure was crumbling down? As if he were on the edge, an unnoted but crucial part of his routine just erased, he turned around with—he could not understand, an empty sadness—to walk back to his street.

And froze. The raven-haired midget stood right there—on his side of the road—deep blue eyes staring right into his. He opened his mouth, as if ready to say something but then, had he anything to say?

And then she shook her head and smiled, looking up at him again, with the brilliance of a moment of true happiness on her face, and stepped back, gesturing for him to come.

… and he grinned… the walk back home was going to be very eventful this fine afternoon…

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**A/N: I know this is not so great. But, oh well! So thanks a ton ****_guest (Void), Player Zero, ichirukilover101999, ayushi and ilovebks _****for reviewing. And all those who followed/favorited :3**

**And yes, ****_ayushi_****—I'll work on your prompt xD it's gonna be fun!**

**Which reminds me, I'm open for requests/prompts/suggestions. Just leave it on a review :)**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please leave a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach**

**A/N: Oookay so sorry for the late update. I was really busy. This one is pretty different from the last two chapters. Prompt by ayushi. I hope this doesn't disappoint you!**

**Thank you ****_hunterofcomedy, teshichan, Player Zero, AdilaRain_**** and ****_ichirukilover101999 _****for your wonderful reviews :3 And also all those who favorite/followed. Motivation, yay! And yep, ****_AdilaRain_****, I'll definitely work on your request xD sounds fun!**

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Hormones 

"Ichigo," the raven-haired woman called from behind his back in a cold tone.

He turned around with a warm smile only to be surprised into a frown as he looked at her.

"Rukia," he shook his head, walking to her. "What are you walking around with that knife in your hand for? It's hazardous to child safety."

"Kisama…" she glared up at him. "You're calling me a kid?!"

"I'm. Not. Calling. You. A. Kid," he said between trying to evade her repeated attempts at stabbing him. "I was talking about Kaien," finally catching hold of her wrist gently but firmly, he smiled as he snatched the knife from her and laid a tender hand on her belly. "Now… we've got to be careful with him, haven't we?"

"I'm always careful with him," she retorted incredulously. "Are you accusing me of being a reckless mother?"

"Of course not," he blinked, taking her face in his hands. "But if you're going to be walking around the house with a knife in your hand—"

"That was just for killing you," she deadpanned.

"… Oh," he nodded in understanding. It wasn't the first time she'd thrown a fit and gone on a rampage to kill her _loving_ (in his opinion) husband. Because of… well, this or that reason.

"You…" she hiccupped, dissolving into an unexpected puddle of sobs and hicks. "I hate you, Ichigo—" sob "—you… you threw away the—" sob "—the chappy shirt I… I bought for you from the sale—" sob, sob…

"Rukia…" he moved closer to her, trying to reach his hand to her face which she promptly slapped away.

"You promised me, Ichigo," she sniffed. "You promised me you'll wear that shirt when we go to nii-sama's house next—" sniff "—but you threw it away—"

"Rukia, I swear I didn't throw away that shirt," he managed to pull her into his arms as she shook with the hiccups. "I just… I don't know I probably misplaced it somewhere… I'll go search for it."

"I looked all over for it," she shook her head. "Couldn't find it anywhere. You either threw it away or lost it."

"I'll go look around again. Tomorrow. I really have to rush for a meeting right now—"

"I HATE YOU, ICHIGO," she yelled, throwing the knife at him which barely missed by an inch. "How could you forget we had to go visit nii-sama today! I hate you. I'm going by myself… And I won't come back. I hate you."

"Ru—Rukia… " he tried to go after her as she slammed the door in his face. He sighed, shaking his head as he counted the number of her mood swings he'd had to tolerate in the month. Ten. They were growing more and more frequent as the days passed. Another sigh as he made his way to their room—all cupboards thrown open and clothes scattered all over the floor. The shirt in question obviously lay undisturbed under the fake bottom of a drawer, with a pair of chappy socks, chappy muffler, chappy bedsheet and… oh well!

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"Kurosaki Ichigo," the cold voice greeted him with contempt in addition to a shower of dart arrows which he barely managed to duck.

"Byakuya…" the orange-haired man straightened up, scowling. "Are you trying to kill me, you…"

"You should be grateful those were mere prickly objects with little capability of hurting you," the gentleman replied coldly as he glared ice-daggers at him, leaving little doubt about his intention of murdering the insolent strawberry. "I had made it explicitly clear when I gave you Rukia's hand in marriage that I shall not hesitate to kill you in slow, painful torture if you were ever to make my sister unhappy."

Ichigo gulped, remembering the very, _very_ clear threat he'd been delivered in front of Rukia the day he'd gathered up all his courage to ask Byakuya's permission to marry Rukia. After he'd cancelled his meeting, apologizing a hundred times, he'd decided to try and sneak into the Kuchiki manor and talk Rukia out of it but—ah, the fate!—he'd very conveniently gotten lost in the huge mansion, owing to his bad sense of direction and landed in the lion's den. He regretted not having asked for Yachiru's help as he wondered how the ice-queen gentleman had gotten wind of his arrival.

"I shall take your silence as an acknowledgment of your insolence," he continued in his threateningly impassive voice. "And unless you give me a good reason, I do not see why I should let you live."

"Are you crazy?" Ichigo shuddered at the thought. He could blame Rukia's mood swings on her hormonal upheaval but… well, what could you put the blame on in case of Kuchiki Byakuya? He couldn't be pregnant… or even if he could… well… Ichigo shook his head, trying to snap out of the horrible train of thought.

"I do not even remotely deem that as a reason," the noble said. "Let alone good enough to pardon your insolence."

"O—oi, hold on, Byakuya," he dived behind a couch as a dagger lodged into the soft cushion, no idea when and how it had been materially produced out of nowhere.

"Do you wish to say more, Kurosaki Ichigo?" another dagger whirring past the imbecile's ear. "I shall not, however, be granting your dying wish."

"Okay, listen," he huffed. "Let me just go talk to Rukia—"

"I do not intend to let you leave here alive."

"Just let me talk to her, teme," he yelled. "You don't want to have the blood of the father of an unborn child on your hands, do you?"

It couldn't have been the pitch as much as it were the words that stopped the ice-queen Byakuya mid-way of throwing another dagger at this imbecile of a brother-in-law.

"Alright," he said, straightening up, still glaring at him coldly. "I shall give you ten minutes. Do not be mistaken, Kurosaki Ichigo. I have not been convinced of your reason, but I shall let you go for the sake of my niece."

"It could be a boy, you know," said Ichigo, rolling his eyes at the almost imperceptible curve of his brother-in-law's lips.

He walked down the hall and finally found the room he'd been trying to get to so desperately.

"Ichigo…" the violet-eyed woman turned to look at her husband as the door opened up.

"Hey, Rukia," he said, scratching the back of his head as he walked to her awkwardly. "See, I found the shirt," he tugged at a corner of the chappy shirt he was wearing. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll never misplace it again. Ever."

"It's okay…" she smiled brightly, seeing her favorite shirt. "I'm sorry I overreacted."

"No, you didn't," he put his arms around her and lifted her up gently. "I'm sorry I'm an idiot."

"But you're my favorite idiot," she giggled as he kissed her tenderly, all the tension disappearing immediately with his touch. Her hand trailed under his shirt as the other one fiddled with the buttons.

"Alright," he grinned, taking off his pants in one kick as she threw the shirt down on the floor.

"Ichigooo," Rukia squealed as she took in the view—hundreds of chappies smiling at her from all over his boxers. "I looove youuu."

"I love you too, baka," he said, sighing on the inside. He had no idea what all he'd have to endure the chappies on for the next few months!

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"I shall forgive you this last time, Kurosaki Ichigo," the noble said calmly when they finally went down to tell him they were going home. Together. "However, I hope to hear you are taking good care of my sister. Any such blunders in the future shall not be forgiven."

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo nodded. "Don't worry, I'll take better care of her."

"Rukia," he turned to his sister, his frown disappearing at once. He lifted a box and shoved it in her husband's hand without any regard. "These are a few gifts for you. Take care of yourself."

"I will, nii-sama," she bowed slightly. "Thank you for your kindness."

As they drove away in the car, she excitedly pulled the box from the backseat to have a look at the contents. Ichigo smiled at her childish behavior before his eyes fell on the _horrific_ contents.

Among other things, was a shirt with little wakame ambassadors printed all over it. He scowled as he realized this was going to be his wife's immediate favorite and he really had no idea where he could draw the lines at now.

Because he could blame Rukia's mood swings on her hormonal upheaval but… well, what could you put the blame on in case of Kuchiki Byakuya? He couldn't be pregnant… or even if he could… well…

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**A/N: So before anyone points out, let me just say, Rukia isn't OOC here, she's just hormonal and pregnant xD 'cause that was the prompt.**

**Okay, I'm posting it before Byakuya gets the joke on his hormones and comes down to kill me in slow, painful torture!**

***door bursts open***

**Chire, Senbonzakura**

***yelps and starts running around***

**Please leave a review! In case I survive, it'll make me really happy!**


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